Patrick Olivelle’s new book, Ashoka: Portrait of a Philosopher King, on the Mauryan emperor views him purely as a historical figure, without the myths – using only the ancient emperor’s own inscriptions as source. Breaking his edicts into distinct ways of understanding the man, Olivelle presents a carefully crafted vision of the emperor.
Contextualising Ashoka
This book is the first in the “Indian Lives” series edited by Ramachandra Guha. Each title in the series “focuses on the life and legacy of an important figure from Indian history”. Rulers, thinkers, artists and writers, and social reformers are the subjects of the series, which hopes for “fresh and illuminating insights into the history of India from ancient times to the present”. Conceived as a series of 11 books, it includes Chitralekha Zutshi on Sheikh Abdullah, Akshaya Mukul on Jayaprakash Narayan, and Srinath Raghavan on Subramanyam Chandrasekhar. It definitely looks like a “big men” approach (barring one on Kasturba Gandhi, all the other books are on men). And Patrick Olivelle’s Ashoka is the first of these.
Olivelle tells us that Ashoka (or Piyadassi, as he may have well been known) is both a historical and mythical figure. He lays out the various ideas of the emperor that have emerged since his death – Buddhist and Brahmanical retellings, and later scholarly re-interpretations (over 1,600 papers and books since 1837, according to Harry Falk). Rather than attempting a comprehensive biography, Olivelle aims to draw a portrait of this far from ignored figure as he emerges from his inscriptions. Other sources, Olivelle contends, only serve to better understand the information from the inscriptions.
Some historians might be wary of this approach of basing a study on a single source, or a set of sources with only one point of view. But with Ashoka, as Olivelle himself points out, there is a dearth of evidence beyond his edicts that can contribute authentically to a profile of the emperor. Olivelle also quotes and cites extensively from other scholars of Ashoka across time, from Vincent Smith’s work in 1901 to Nayanjot Lahiri’s and Upinder Singh’s books in 2022, ensuring that this text on texts remains in conversation with other texts on the texts.
Structuring Piyadassi
My initial question was – will a lay reader be drawn into a book of such weight and scope? My fears were immediately laid to rest: Olivelle’s writing is clear-cut, straightforward and engaging. While breaking down the information in the edicts, he also provides ample explanation about them. Thus in each chapter, the overview of an argument and background is provided, the relevant edicts are cited and analysed, while some external information provides a contextual understanding, and further exposition leads into a summing up.
Olivelle also attempts to make the book relevant to a new generation of readers with language that even borrows from contemporary cultural slang in places. Thus, for instance, “cancel culture” takes place in a contest over the Barabar caves after Piyadassi’s death.
The author breaks down the edicts – and Ashoka, in the process – into four sections: Ashoka as raja; as Buddhist; as moral philosopher; and as ecumenist. Each deals with a different aspect of the emperor, sometimes citing the same inscription in order to bring about different points of view. For instance, the “Queen’s Edict” features in Chapter 2 to illustrate Ashoka’s relations with women as stated in his edicts, in Chapter 10 to provide part of his views on dharma, and in Chapter 11 to elucidate on his perspective on giving gifts. In this way, the edicts provide multiple insights into a man who has captured our collective imagination.
Also of note is the analysis of words and their frequency of occurrence that Olivelle goes into in the earlier chapters, giving us an interesting route into Ashoka’s inner mind.
Olivelle as translator and interpreter
Olivelle is his own translator. Translating in itself is not a simple task, and to translate alongside writing is demonstrative of attention to detail. A humble critic of his own translations, Olivelle interjects constantly, playing down his word choices and sentence construction in the footnotes. They do the job they are meant to do – to provide direct evidence and to allow the reader to go along with the author as he runs through an argument or exposition.
The grasp of language and technical details that Olivelle demonstrates allows for diversions from the edicts. These are taken in order to better understand their social, political and cultural setting. In this way, understanding linguistic differences across the large Mauryan Empire or the background of certain keywords like “bheda” strengthens the interpretation of differences in the choice of words in the same inscription at different places, or Ashoka’s messages toward unity in the Sangha, respectively.
Understanding sources (and the state)
While the book in itself does a great job with the edicts, there is a deeper layer as well. The tables that collate information in each chapter, the map and timeline at the beginning, and the compiled lists of edicts at the end present the reader with an opportunity to see the original text for themselves, allowing for an individual visual and textual reading that complements the explanations given by the author.
At the same time, Olivelle enriches the text with much heavier theories on state formation and ideas of nation that one would not normally present in a book to a lay audience – from Rousseau’s ideas on the social contract theory to Benedict Anderson’s imagined communities – especially when discussing civil religion. The lucid writing nudges the reader towards think about statehood and its politics. For a series on “Indian Lives”, this sets the stage well for encouraging further critical thinking on larger political matters.
How is the Mauryan Ashoka made Indian? Simple enough – Olivelle connects the emperor to the Indian state. As an epilogue, he brings the narrative full circle, painting an “afterword” of the engraved words and symbols. From his mythification after his death, Ashoka was “rediscovered” as a historic figure in the late 18th century. In the mid-20th century, Ashoka’s images and words were reimagined – his lion capital and dharma chakra emblem becoming part of the Indian state iconography, while his words inspired new leaders like Jawaharlal Nehru. Even the present government has utilised him, reimagining his symbolism for their own politics, with a snarling three-headed lion capital on the new parliament building.
Olivelle’s textual insights and analysis of Devanampiya Piyadassi’s life as ruler, religious figure and pioneer, assisted ably by tables and charts, provide the reader with a brief yet critical glimpse into the man who was Ashoka/Piyadassi. A few points of critique cannot and does hinder the larger biographical project.
Ashoka: Portrait of a Philosopher King, Patrick Olivelle, HarperCollins India.
Limited-time offer: Big stories, small price. Keep independent media alive. Become a Scroll member today!
Our journalism is for everyone. But you can get special privileges by buying an annual Scroll Membership. Sign up today!